


Little Bit

by Timewatcher9000



Category: Dalton Academy Series, Glee
Genre: Dysphoria, FTM, FTM Reader, Gender Dysphoria, M/M, Reader-Insert, Trans Male Character, Transgender, female to male, male reader - Freeform, trans reader - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-28
Updated: 2017-06-28
Packaged: 2018-11-20 04:55:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11329026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Timewatcher9000/pseuds/Timewatcher9000
Summary: Sebastian wanted his boyfriend to join the Warblers ever since he heard him sing. His boyfriend, unfortunately, does not attend Dalton Academy. So after a lot of convincing to the council, it is agreed that his boyfriend will be given a chance to audition. However, Sebastian can't help but notice how emotional his boyfriend is getting, none of the Warblers can ignore it.





	Little Bit

Sweat trickled down your face as you felt your cheeks burn with heat. Every eye in the room was on you. You glanced at Sebastian as he gave you an encouraging smile. You let out a deep breath as you faced the others in the room, who were waiting to see you audition for your spot in the Warblers. 

"I got so sick of being on my own

Now the devil won't leave me alone

It's almost like I found a friend

Who's in it for the bitter end

Our consciences are always so much heavier than our egos

I set my expectations high

So nothing ever comes out right."

This song was a song that you held very close to your heart. When figuring out your identity and trying to stop your constant dysphoria this was a song that you can project your feelings onto. You were tired of feeling like you were the only one who was different. But then you came across the one word that would end up being your savior and downfall. Transgender. Your life changed. It changed so much, both for the good and bad. The good thing was that you were able to find support and find people who were just like you. 

You slowly started to dress a lot more 'masculine' and began to get as comfortable as you can in your own skin. You found make-shift ways to bind, make shift ways to smell masculine, and make shift ways to look masculine. But no matter how much you were changing or how much you were proud of yourself the intense waves of dysphoria just couldn't be stopped.

There was this ideal of a man that you looked up to and you simply couldn't reach it. It was always because you were too short, too soft, too weak, too feminine, or something that you didn't want to be associated with anymore. That's where most of your dysphoria came from. Not being able to be the man you wanted to be.

"So shoot a star on the boulevard tonight

I think I'll figure it out with a little more time

But who needs time...?"

You can't really find yourself complaining though. You'd rather be dysphoric, know who you are, and that there are ways of being happy than being stuck in your own body without a single clue as to what is going on. The latter was exactly how you were before you discovered yourself. 

You remember being so appalled with your body when puberty started. Your boobs made you want to puke, your hips made you disgusted with what you saw in the mirror, and you wanted so bad to just go back to the way you were before. You wanted nothing more than to reverse your growing so that you're more comfortable in your body. You suddenly hated the way you looked and hated everything that was associated with you.

"Turn off the lights, turn off the lights

Turn on the charm for me tonight

I've got my heavy heart to hold me down

Once it falls apart my head's in the clouds

So I'm taking every chance I got

Like the man I know I'm not."

But you've finally found out who you were and it felt nice. Sure dysphoria got in the way, a lot. But it was nice to be able to put words to how you feel. However, it was incredibly risky to transition and be openly out.

You can be killed on the street, attacked in the bathroom, mocked in school, your parents could find out from the school, your teachers can easily discriminate against you, and so many other things can happen. 

On a daily your told that your not a man, that you're delusional, that you have a disease, and that you're just trying to get attention. Your parents have openly mentioned that they don't believe that "transgenders" should transition because it's making their lives more miserable and that they're just begging to get beat up.

"So sick of wasting all my time

How in God's name did I survive?

I need a little sympathy

To sore my insecurities

Our consciences are always so much heavier than our egos

I set my expectations high

So nothing ever comes out right."

For whatever reason, lately, you've been finding yourself more dysphoric then ever. Maybe because it was reaching summer and you had to wear shorter clothes to remain cool. Every time you went out, no longer did you receive a "sir" or "Mr" with the waiters or cashiers. Slowly whenever you went out you were addressed as a girl or when with your girlfriends they would address you as a girl too. You've been more self conscious of your voice than before; it might be your imagination but you can almost hear your pitch getting higher. Swimsuit season is the worse though. It is nearly impossible to find gender neutral swim wear; which was one of the most worrying things because you loved the water.

Maybe your distress has been showing a lot more than it use to. Because your friends have been complimenting you a lot lately. Whenever you went out to the beach they would tell you how you looked like a model, how handsome you were, or how sexy you looked. And it did wonders for your self-confidence and made you actually think you were passing. But whenever you got home or went out in public without them, it was terrible. 

"So shoot a star on the boulevard tonight

I think I'll figure it out with a little more time

But who needs time...?"

The times alone or the time with your family were the worst on you. Constantly you were thrown into this little box called a "tomboy". You were simply a girl who didn't feel the need to conform to what others thought, which as powerful as that is it simply isn't you. Your brother always attempted to get you to "be a girl." He wanted you to wear a purse, wear make-up, wear dresses, "act like a girl", grow your hair out like a girl, or any other standard he held out for women. While being a boy doesn't prevent you from doing any of that, it still causes a lot of dysphoria because when doing those things you'll be perceived as a girl.

It was terrible. You wanted to wear the crop tops, short shorts, or feminine clothing. But the dysphoria would be too much. You'd be even more uncomfortable then you already were wearing a suit, which would be exhausting and nerve racking. You never felt like a boy anymore. Trying to appear masculine while not being fully out to family is one of the most stressful things. Because it's between hating yourself or having your family hate you.

"Turn off the lights, turn off the lights

Turn on the charm for me tonight

I've got my heavy heart to hold me down

Once it falls apart my head's in the clouds

So I'm taking every chance I got

Like the man I know I'm not."

It never fails that you end up hating yourself. Some nights you start to think there is no hope for you to be a boy. Some nights it feels like you're simply a girl who fetishizes gay men. You can't help but feel guilt when claiming the title of "gay man" or "pan man" or whatever other label that you like to use to describe your attraction to others. Some nights you feel like you're just going through some small phase of self-loathing. No matter how much you tried to reason with yourself or how much other people tried to help you, the icky emotions and thoughts couldn't go away. 

"A heavy heart on the boulevard tonight, oh

Shooting stars watch me fall apart tonight, whoa-oh-oh-oh-oh."

It's even worse when you find that you accidentally misgender yourself on occasions. You weren't exactly sure if that was normal or if that was something that just showed you were just going through a phase. The guilt you feel whenever you refer to yourself as a girl or by your birth name is sickening. 

If you were truly a boy like you claim, then you wouldn't refer to yourself as a girl. You wouldn't spend nights up thinking about if you're just being special or if you're going through a phase.

"Turn off the lights, turn off the lights

Turn on the charm for me tonight

I've got my heavy heart to hold me down

Once it falls apart my head's in the clouds

So I'm taking every chance I got

Like the man I know I'm not."

You didn't notice when you stared crying. You really didn't. Luckily it wasn't a lot because that would've been incredibly bad. But your situation still wasn't the best seeing as the other Warblers in the room looked at you with pity, concern, pride, and other mixes of emotions. Everyone in that room knows that you're trans, they even know that your closeted to your family. Otherwise it would've been so much easier to join because you'd be attending Dalton Academy yourself. But alas, that wasn't the case and Sebastian managed to convince the Warblers to let you audition for a spot despite that.

"That was really good (y/n)," Trent Nixon, a smaller and chubbier Warbler said. Trent, being the ray of sunshine that he is, pulled you into a tight hug as a few other boys came up to give you kudos. "Excuse me. You can can go ahead and vote on if he'll be joining us. (y/n) and I will be taking our leave now," Sebastian said taking your hand. With encouraging murmurs from the rest of the boys, you and Sebastian headed out to his dorm.

On the way you couldn't stop the crying, it got so much more intense the second you two were alone. Sebastian was the one person who you actually trusted enough to tell most of your secrets to. Sebastian was the one who helped you pick out your name. Sebastian was the first person you ever told. Sebastian was the first one who switched to your correct name and pronouns without a problem. Sebastian was the quickest to adjust. Sebastian was the one who always made sure that you were practicing healthy activities when it came to dealing with your dysphoria. You practically told everything to Sebastian. There was just a few things that you haven't told him about; you didn't want to bother him that much with your own problems so you kept it to yourself.

It seems that he's not having it anymore though. Sebastian placed you on his bed and crawled in next to you. He sat with his legs straight and pulled you into his body; he was hugging you from behind. Neither of you two said a word. Sebastian simply held you, waiting for you to say something first. But you were not ready to make the first move.

The silence only lasted for a few minutes before Sebastian decided to stop waiting and said something. "(Y/n), and tell me the truth, okay? Don't lie to me. Have you been doing okay?" Every part of you wanted to do the very thing he told you not to do. Your brain kept telling you to just tell him that everything was fine and that you only got a bit emotional. You didn't want to tell him how you've been eating significantly less, how you've been skipping meals all together, how you've been binding with bandages, how you've been crying at your appearance in the mirror for months, or how you absolutely hated yourself and your body. But in the end you couldn't lie to him.

"I'm not okay at all Bas," you cried out as you now found yourself having to confess everything to him. "I don't feel good about myself. I hate my body so much."

Sebastian held you tighter as you went on to explain your dysphoria, your troubles, your unhealthy tendencies, and all the other terrible things that have been haunting you.

"I have a lot of body dysphoria. I always have," you started, "I use to have really long hair. Like so long that it would reach down to my butt. And I remember how everyone told me that my hair was pretty. Everyone wanted me to wear it down, do something fancy with it, or to have it. Growing up I was told that I would learn to love my hair and that every girl would die to have it. I didn't feel that way though. Back when I had long hair I always had it in a ponytail, braided, or shoved in a beanie. I didn't like my hair. Whenever I had it down I felt so uncomfortable because not only would people put so much attention on me but also because I hated the way I looked. My hair was too frizzy, thick, tangled, and made me look fat. And my mom absolutely hated that I didn't like my hair. One day she wanted to teach me a lesson and she got my hair cut. She thought that since I wasn't taking care of my hair properly and didn't like it that having it cut off would make me miss it which would result in me caring about it. Well, it didn't. I fell in love with my hair in a way that I never thought would be possible. I actually looked into the mirror and liked what I saw. It felt right, it felt really good to be able to see myself in the mirror. And I use to think that I was the weird one for being so happy with my haircut. I was so obsessed with my hair; I couldn't stop staring at it and I couldn't stop playing with it. I managed to find myself actually identifying with a haircut. Which was one of the greatest feelings of my life."

You paused for a moment, trying to get a hold of your thoughts. There was so much more you wanted to tell him. There was so much more that you needed to share. Sebastian rested his head in the crook of your neck and told you to just continue when you where ready. He seemed to recognize that this wasn't the end of it.

"I also never had a really good relationship with my chest. It's not just my chest though. It's also my butt, hips, curves, and jawline. It all just feels too feminine for me to actually be comfortable. And that doesn't mean that I don't think that a boy can't have boobs or that a girl can't have a dick. Because quite frankly the fact that you would limit someone to their genitalia is weird and disgusting. Unfortunately, not everyone shares my opinion. I think that's where most of my dysphoria comes from. When people learn of my gender they never seem to believe me. Because they're too distracted with my body. They can't grasp the concept of me being a boy because my body tells a completely different story to society. One of the worst things in my life is that people perceive me as a girl playing dress up who is trying to be punk and deny society. Which as powerful as that is and as much as I would love for there to be more people like that, it isn't who I am. I'm not a girl who's dressing up. I'm not a butch lesbian. I'm not a lesbian trying to mimic men to avoid the gay community. I'm not a girl who has experienced a traumatic experience that makes me disconnect from womanhood. I am simply a boy, but people don't see it like that. It's gotten so bad that I have this perfect little fantasy world where I'm this skinny, pale, androgynous kid who's queerness is never challenged or questioned."

You stopped crying a while ago. You found that you no longer felt the need to cry or hide yourself. Sebastian was here to help you, along with his friends. Talking about this out loud may have been the thing that you needed to help relieve your stress.

"Growing up, my family always tried to push this heteronormative and cisgendered lifestyle. I guess she assumed that if she tried hard enough to make me live 'normal' that I would turn out that way. With that heteronormativity came strict gender roles. She would always make fun of boys who liked more traditionally feminine things. She would always tell me how all boys were rude, dirty, and dominant. She tried to teach me that a good wife would cook for her husband while he was out working and that a woman would be staying home and watching the kids. She told me that it was up to the women to keep everything clean because the only men that were organized were gay. Luckily for me though, being a tomboy is a lot more accepted then being a feminine boy. So my mom never gave me too much troubles when I played certain games, wore certain clothes, or liked certain things. My mother, however, would tell me that I was eventually going to change and become more girly as I got older. When I was young, and even now, my family would tease me about the fact that I hated being associated with anything that's traditionally feminine. I despised pink. I refused to wear dresses. I never got my ears pierced. I didn't own jewelry. I hated make-up. And whenever someone use to call my princess or any other feminine title I would freak out. I always thought it was because I was better than the other girls for not wanting to look good or present as a girl; I actually can't really say that I thought that, it was more of my mother forcing that thinking onto me. But either way, now that I'm finally where I'm at it makes so much sense."

Sebastian kissed you temple when you kept quiet for minutes on end after your venting. "Are you done?"

You nodded in response. That was all you had to say for now.

"I just want you to know that I am going to make sure that you get the help that you need. Whether it be hormones, surgery, binders, packers, or clothes I will help you. You are not going to be stuck like this forever. There are so many other people who are going through the same exact thing as you. You are amazing (y/n). You are strong. You are inspiring," Sebastian comforted as he cuddled into you.

It felt amazing to finally confess everything that's been bugging you. The comforting hold of Sebastian made this harsh, angry, and uncomfortable world just a little bit more bearable.


End file.
